Shades of Sin
by Clockwork Khaos
Summary: -Discontinued. Please see profile page for details.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of its characters. Only my fanfiction and any OC's.**

**It's been a very long time since I attempted to write a story, so please forgive any roughness. Also, if you notice any mistakes regarding, spelling, canon, characterization or grammar please don't hesitate to point them out to me. I'll greatly appreciate any help or suggestions you have to give. I welcome all comments and criticisms. I admit I'm more than a little nervous since this is my first time writing a fic for Black Butler lol.**

**I'll also say now that my updates tend to be a little irregular. Giving myself set deadlines turns all this into work for me, which in turns sucks all the fun out of it.**

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

_**February 4, 1877**_

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

"Well, well, what have we here?" A soft voice mused aloud. "Does a filthy vulture dare to poke at my child?"

William pivoted from the bloodied mess of the small girl, narrowing his eyes at the woman. In turn, she slowly smiled at him, her lips stretched wide to reveal the barest glimpse of fangs. She took a step closer, pausing just as the spear extended only a hair's breadth away from her face.

She laughed quietly, her irritation only betrayed by the faint glowing in her crimson eyes. A loose strand of blonde hair skimmed off her shoulder as her head tilted to the side, a slightly bemused expression crossing her features, though the smile never diminished.

"Oh?" She breathed, the single note holding a dangerous edge. "Does the reaper want to play? You chose a very daring game…a game I'm quite skilled at."

William gritted his teeth, feeling his disgust well up inside his stomach like a stone.

"Demons cannot bear children. This child is Sonja Winslow. Born October 23, 1872 and died on February 4, 1877. Cause of death: blood loss."

The woman merely watched as he spoke to her through stiff lips, her demeanor becoming cheerful in contrast.

"Very astute," She commended brightly. "Sonja Winslow did indeed die today. But since I never fail my contracts, I'm afraid there's no soul for you to collect. Rather," her tongue danced along her lips, gliding smoothly over the elongated fangs that protruded from her mouth. "A new person was born. One whose name will _never_ exist inside that petty book."

The shadows around her seemed to stretch and thicken, painting a tangible darkness around them. Eyes widening, William dashed forward, feeling a slight impact against his spear as her laughter peeled in the air like tinkling bells. As the shadows retracted the echoes of her mirth bounced throughout the surrounding woods, sounding from all directions. Cursing under his breath he looked to where he left the girl, unsurprised to find her body and naturally, her soul, missing.

Moving the death scythe to adjust his skewed glasses, he stopped short and scowled at the blood that marred the tip, reeking of sulfur.

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

_**15 years later in April of 1892.**_

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

Sonja stepped into the all too familiar inn, an accommodation house under innocent pretenses. Prostitutes were scattered throughout the lounge, their professions known only to those who had money in their pockets and a wandering eye. The owner of the house, Dmitri Dragovich worked hard to maintain as dignified of a position as he could in the far reaches of the city, neatly eliminating any threat to his partly soiled reputation. His weapon of choice was Sonja herself.

From across the room, Rosalie gave a wide grin, bouncing on her heels as she waved the dark-haired woman over.

Sonja made her way past, ignoring the leers of men that tried to hold her attention, sizing her up with their hungry eyes. As always, Rosalie looked amused at the scowl etched into the other girl's face.

"You look as excited as ever to come home," Rosalie commented, guiding her over to an empty corner with a hand wrapped around her shoulder.

"Three months and I still don't understand the point of such a place as this. Everyone pays for sex one way or another. Why should it have to be so discreet when the price is merely money? "

Rosalie laughed, "And pride, which is a far steeper price to pay."

Sonja shrugged her shoulders. "Pride is far too often the price, bordello or not. It is the height of foolishness to pretend otherwise."

"If everyone saw the world as you did, I think London would be far worse than it already is." Rosalie took a sip of wine, as dark as the lipstick she wore. She pushed the strands of red hair from her round face, her hazel eyes taking in the scenery around her.

Even from such a simple moment as this, Sonja could see why she was one of the top girls. Her dress was modest, but carefully arranged so as to show off her curves to their full advantage. Her looks were strikingly beautiful, youthful beyond their years. She could easily play the role of a younger girl, if that was what her clientele for the night preferred. And, most importantly for a profession such as this, she carried herself like a lady. Hardly a surprise really, once one got to know more about her. She had, after all, once been from a rich noble family before leaving her former husband; a man who had toyed with both excessive drink and rage.

Her descent to being yet another fallen woman was a tragic tale to be sure, but Sonja found herself feeling little sympathy for the woman who all too eagerly tried to convince her to follow into the same downward spiral. To lift her skirt and spread her legs to the highest bidder as if it were her birthright.

"Have you reconsidered Dmitri's offer?"

The younger woman suppressed a cringe.

"I already have a job."

"Yes, you're his spy and his killer. And Sweetheart, without a doubt, you will also be his scapegoat. Believe it or not you could make it quite far in this profession with those looks of yours. Men already ask after you."

"I know that very well," Sonja affirmed distastefully. "Not everyone is so subtle as to go to an employee when they ask for a price. Nor are they always so gentlemanly when they can't buy whatever they want."

"Oh no?" Rosalie giggled into her glass. "Do you set them straight I assume?"

"After hearing how it is my fault, of course. There are two things every man is willing to believe about a woman: that she needs him and that she finds him attractive. Take that away and they don't know what to think."

Rosalie swirled the wine around her glass, admiring the the way the faint light shone in its depths.

"I wonder what they truly want to put in your mouth the moment you open it."

"Funny," Sonja chuckled. "My mother often wondered the same. She came up with the most creative suggestions."

Rosalie snorted, shaking her head with an amused grin.

Later that night, Dmitri made an appearance. Sonja could hear the whispered remarks made behind ornate fans, but the proprietor seemed oblivious to the growing tension. He walked through with a bright smile, warmly greeting guest and working girl alike.

Guests swarmed to him like moths to a flame, adoring the natural charm that tall and elegant man emanated. His smile never wavered as he looked on with cold eyes, intelligent and sharp. His suit was white, an aesthetically bold and beautiful choice, contrasting with his tan skin and fair hair. His ladies, however, knew all too well of the spider that lurked within that handsome web.

"I didn't know he was coming tonight, did you?"

"Oh no, if I had any idea I would've done something nice with my hair. I'll be scolded for sure."

"Is it another inspection? That would explain why Sonja's been down here in the lounge with us for so long."

Sonja glared at the wall, hoping that if she couldn't see them, she wouldn't be able to hear them either. This always happened when she stayed out of her room too long. Suspicion arose and the genteel kindness of the so-called ladies would sour. Smiles would harden while eyes grew ever wary. Only Rosalie remained sincere in the face of it all.

Now that Dmitri was here, the accusations rose at an alarming rate. From the corner of her eye, she could see Dmitri casually meander to her corner, where she relaxed in a plump chair, book in hand and drink to the side. Snapping it shut, she stood, weaving her way through the throng of people.

"Ah, Sonja, what a surprise," He called out to her before politely breaking from the small talk he was engaged in with a regular customer.

Sonja gauged her chances to escape, of feigning ignorance to his welcome. Too slim, she concluded bitterly. Setting the book aside on a small table, she turned, plastering a smile on her face.

"Mr. Dragovich."

Dmitri smoothed his hair back absently, extending his other hand to her. "It's been so long since I've seen you. Please, allow me to accompany you tonight so we can catch up."

She took the hint. "Of course, my friend," The words rolled off her tongue, so oily she feared her feet might slip beneath her. "Shall we go somewhere slightly quieter?"

"Ah yes, I know of a place that sells the most delicious chocolate. If it pleases you, I'd be more than happy to treat you tonight."

Sonja's eye twitched involuntarily. So then, she was to appear sold out for chocolate. Exactly what the men in this place needed to think, that a simple childish treat was all she needed to even consider a man for the night.

"It sounds wonderful," She said, burying her annoyance beneath another smile. "I thank you."

"Not at all," he beamed and extended his arm to her in a courteous manner. Slipping her hand through it, she allowed him to lead her out the door.

Once outside, he picked up a lock of her ebony hair, twirling it around his long, slim fingers. "Have you reconsidered my offer? The men would be happy to have you, you know. I haven't been looked upon so enviously for some time now."

She jerked her head away, leaving his hand caress the night air instead.

"My answer is the same as the night you hired me." She hissed. "I haven't found anything out of the ordinary so-"

Her report was cut off as he suddenly dragged her around the building, shoving her roughly against the wall. His face colored a menacing shade of red, he bared his teeth.

"Nothing out of the ordinary?" He scoffed. "Truly? Perhaps you would be far better as a cheap whore like the rest of that filth. Explain to me, why then, we have attracted the attention of the Scotland Yard."

"What?" Sonja mustered, eyes growing wide. "No, there must be some mistake. I've been with the ladies every night for the past week and-"

He slapped her across the face in a swift movement, snapping her head to the side like a rag doll.

"Find them, Sonja. If I don't see someone dead in three days, you're back on the streets. Remember little girl, I was the only one willing to take you in as something other than a prostitute without any credentials or background. Without me, you're the same as every bloody woman I house. Frankly speaking, I'm beginning to wonder if you're worth the disappointment. It'll be interesting to see if you could find a house that treats you nearly as well as I do, especially after I tarnish your name in London's underworld."

Sonja bit back her spite, curling her hands into tight fists to keep them from cradling her jaw. "Understood. He'll be dealt with tomorrow night."

"Good," with a final sneer he pushed her away forcefully. Smoothing his hair back, he walked back into the street, letting her pick herself up from the grimy ground.

He just wants someone dead, she mused to herself as she slapped a stain off from her gown. Ideas and plans formed in her head, laid out so intricately she couldn't help the smirk that tugged at her lips.

It was all too easy.

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

"Messy murders indeed." Sebastian looked at the corpses, unimpressed with the dramatic display.

The corpse of a young man, no older than his mid-twenties lay in the coffin. His long coat tattered and ripped, full of small cuts.

The woman appeared to have been hit from behind in a single blow to the back of the neck. Even carefully positioned in the slim box her head was clearly almost fully decapitated from her body.

As interesting as that was, however, Ciel came for the single thing they both had in common.

Lodged lightly in each body, a single scrap of lace appeared, the delicate fabric stained with blood.

"These murders are different." The young earl muttered, fingering the lace. "The killer wanted it to be seen. They left a trademark."

Aberline stepped forward, presenting a case file. "His name was Adam Saunders. He had joined the Scotland Yard as a low ranking officer this past year. And the other is his wife, Marianne."

Ciel smirked as he looked down at the blood-soaked garter in his hand. He could think of only one motive behind that. "You guys must have gotten even more sloppy over the years to attract such an enemy. I didn't think you wasted your time on such petty cases as a common bordello."

"I didn't think her majesty would be so interested in such a matter as to send her hound." A voice spat.

Ciel turned, watching as Randall came forward, a bored expression passing over his features as the older man glowered down at him over his thin-rimmed glasses.

"This man died on one of London's busiest streets, even in nighttime it would not be easy for the killer to murder and escape with no witnesses. The queen fears it may be another case like Jack the Ripper. Come now, Sebastian. Let's get this over with."

"Yes, my Lord."

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

"How did you find the man so fast?" Rosalie asked, two nights after Dmitri's visit. The two girls were sitting side by side on Sonja's bed, dressed in their nightgowns. "I thought you didn't have any leads."

"It wasn't the same man," Sonja explained, working her hair into a loose braid behind her back. "He'd never even been here before in his life."

The red-head stared at her in wide-eyed shock. "You killed an innocent man?"

"No one is truly innocent, Rosalie." Sonja reminded her gently. "Besides, I merely did what I had to. I'm not fired and the Scotland Yard will be much more apprehensive." She couldn't help the smugness that crept into her voice as she added, "They're already scrambling to cover up the situation."

"What if they know it was us?" Rosalie pushed dubiously, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

Sonja remained confident. "I don't make mistakes."

"And if this little plan of yours backfires?" Rosalie retorted. "It's more than just you at stake here."

"Then I lose everything I have in this city, dragging a number of people down with me." She shrugged, tying the braid off in a plain ribbon. "It's a dangerous game, but I've grown to be quite a skilled player."

Suddenly remembering something, Sonja hopped down from the bed, reaching beneath it for small brightly wrapped box with a small ribbon.

Handing it to Rosalie, she said somewhat shyly, "It's something I've handed out to all the girls. They all seem to think they're cute. I made them as a joke, but since it was such a hit I wondered if perhaps you'd like one as well."

Carefully opening the package, Rosalie laughed as she pulled out a thin, lacy garter with the bordello's signature pointed rose embroidered in the center the small bow on the side.


	2. Chapter 2

Ciel walked into the Red Rose, the truth of the inn hidden to the untrained eye. He could see it in their eyes, the whores' lust for money in absolute equilibrium to the men's lust for flesh. Sex and greed were akin to a stain in the air, almost tangible in its choking presence. Many women made their way over to them, greeting the earl and butler with careful smiles and subtle offerings of the femininity sold beneath their stylish gowns. They appeared to be torn between the two, wanting to taste the seductiveness Sebastian emanated but desiring the coin Ciel's obvious status promised to bring.

"Ah, what good fortune." A deep and rich voice sounded from the side, "Welcome to my humble inn, Lord Phantomhive."

Dmitri Dragovich, Ciel realized. At the introduction, all eyes focused on the three men at the entrance, roaring conversations hushing to an eagerly inquisitive silence. Ciel paid no heed to the onlookers, knowing full well how to manipulate the attention.

The man smiled, though his eyes were cold as ice, an unspoken threat lurking in their depths.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," he offered a hand to the Earl.

Ciel ignored it, unable to stop the smirk that twisted over his face as Dragovich's charming facade faltered slightly.

"Good evening, Mr. Dragovich. Might I have a word?"

Curious whispers filled the quiet room. Growing noticeably vexed, Dragovich nodded. "Certainly. Shall us two go to my office upstairs-"

"Three," Sebastian corrected with perfect civility, his eyes daring the human to argue.

Dragovich paused briefly before laughing with forced congeniality. "Of course I meant no disrespect. I just assumed that this was to be a private meeting between us _nobles_."

The emphasis on the difference of status undoubtedly did not escape Sebastian's notice, but to his credit he gave no indication of acknowledging the insult.

"Sonja," The man called, addressing the room for the first time. "Could you be a dear and bring some tea up to us?"

A young, svelte woman stood, large amber eyes meeting Ciel's through a dark curtain of long hair, assessing him with an aloof sort of interest. She curtsied in acquiescence to the request, her simple but well-tailored gown rising delicately above her ankles. While she straightened, Dragovich directed them up the stairs, smoothing back his hair as he spoke in a light tone apologizing in advance for not having anything more suitable for the Earl of Phantomhive.

"It is fine," Ciel stated, not allowing himself to be swept up in the useless small talk that seemed to be Dragovich's forte.

Inside the office, Dragovich sat behind the desk, lowering himself with more dignity than Ciel would have given him credit for.

Interesting, he thought as he followed suit, crossing his legs with practiced ease. A fatal weakness, unbeknownst to the proprietor, was already exposed the moment he grew comfortable outside the gaze of critical peers. Sebastian stood by his master's side, like a knight guarding the king on the opposite side of the board.

"Is there some way I may be of service?" He asked, steepling his fingers together.

"Perhaps," Ciel answered vaguely. Before he could continue, a faint knock sounded on the door.

"Come in, Ms. Devereux." The man called.

The door opened as the young woman walked in, pushing a silver tea tray into the room. Deftly pouring tea into a gaudily decorated cup she presented one first before Ciel, and then before her employer. Ciel raised a brow as she stood to the side, giving no indication of leaving.

Dragovich paid her no heed, taking a small sip of tea. Ciel lifted the cup to his lips, pretending to swallow some of the faintly scented, brown liquid resting in the cup.

"It is the tea we already had prepared for the renters. The best we have at the moment I'm afraid, but I see my Sonja has put it in our best china for you."

"Thank you," Ciel nodded dully, already growing frustrated with the shameless distractions.

The blonde man adjusted his cuffs before redirecting his attention back to the matter at hand. "What was it you needed? If there's anything I can do to help I'd be more than happy to oblige."

"From what I've come to understand, Mr. Dragovich, you're a very influential man in this area." Ciel began, studying the man with a chilling gaze. "It would be quite a shame if your reputation was spoiled by committing sloppy murders in the middle of London."

Dragovich paused, briefly and subtly, but undeniably. It was all Ciel needed to give a final push. "A pity it would be if your pastimes were exposed to go beyond that of whorehouse to homicide."

The man flinched, his gaze flickering to Sonja, who watched the proceedings impassively. When the earl focused his attention on her, her expression changed to one of shock.

"Oh my, surely you must be mistaken." She said. "Mr. Dragovich isn't the sort."

"Then perhaps he would be able to explain this," Ciel gestured to Sebastian, who slipped the bloodied garters from his pockets and deposited them on the desk.

"Is that not the pointed rose that is your bordello's insignia?"

The man paled, face turning as white as his suit. "Just what do you mean to imply? You come here and rashly insult both me and my business. It is a clear setup. We have no garters like that in our business. We are but a regular inn."

Ciel's face darkened in disgust. "There are so many blatant lies in that statement it isn't even funny."

"How dare-"

Sebastian held up a gloved hand. "If I may," He interrupted. Not giving the enraged man a chance to refuse he continued, "Numerous sources have already identified the garters with ones worn by your employees, some claiming witness to it from months ago. In addition, we have come to find that your bordello was in fact under scrutiny of the Scotland Yard. A man and his wife belonging to it were clearly intended targets."

"P-preposterous!" he stuttered, shaking his head from side to side.

"Mr. Dragovich," Sonja interrupted kindly, coming to stand beside the desk. "If you study it closely, it does look just like the ones you instructed me to give to all the erm, maids. Perhaps it's simply difficult to tell through the blood? It certainly does make it look a little different. If you wish, I could call one of them up for you. They're all wearing them right now."

He gaped at her wordlessly for a moment. "You little bitch," He finally mustered, hollow with horror.

For the first time that evening, Sonja smiled.

_**x.x.x.**__**x.x.x**_

"That girl," Sebastian mused, putting a hand to his chin while they watched Dragovich being hauled away that night by the Yard. "She displayed quite a talent. She could prove to be very useful indeed."

"I would like to speak with her tonight," Ciel ordered, climbing into the carriage. "I've wasted enough time playing her games."

Sebastian bowed and shut the door before disappearing back into the crowd that formed around the now-closed bordello.

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

"How could you?" Rosalie screamed, tears falling from her eyes. "This was all we had!"

"Oh please," Sonja rolled her eyes. "You all act as if I left you with nothing. I am not so heartless. There's enough here for you each to start a new life. You all hated working as prostitutes. So now-"

"We didn't want this." Another girl yelled. "At least the money we had before was earned honestly enough."

The others were quick to join, their tainted morals overshadowing reason.

"I robbed the bastard blind," Sonja snarled, raising her voice. "In three months I ripped everything he owned from beneath his feet. Not once did even notice his carefully transferred accounts and missing goods. I sent him so far away he can never dream of tracking you down, never make you pay for taking and using all that is rightfully his. He doesn't let his girls go, you all know that. That's why I came, and why the one before me never came back."

"He wasn't that bad. As long as we were good, he treated us right."

"Better than most men."

"You think we can just pick up from nowhere, start a life for ourselves. Live independently and freely?" Rosalie sneered.

Sonja felt revolted, listening to them continue the stream dimwitted arguments. Shaking in rage, she stormed from the room, nearly colliding with the Earl's butler.

"My master would like a word," he bowed smoothly, silky strands of dark hair falling across his face.

"So he can lock me up too." She said, stating the fact rather than questioning it., "He has a man to take the blame, the killings will stop. There's nothing left he needs to take," She pushed past him roughly. "He did his duty like the dog he is. No need to beg for extra scraps of affection from his Queen."

He followed at an easy pace, as relaxed as if he were taking leisurely stroll rather than trailing a fuming woman.

"He has no interest in imprisoning you. On the contrary my lady, I believe he is rather impressed."

Sonja paused, rage subsiding into surprise. Without turning, unwilling to show the frustrated and confused tears that still pricked at her eyes, she asked, "Why?"

"Because, you did what no one would be willing to do in order to do what you thought was right. In short, you reminded him of his own self."

"What skills?" She inquired cautiously. He continued to speak from behind her, keeping a respectful distance.

"Those deaths weren't easily done. To have done it so openly yet effectively is quite the achievement. Not to mention all the planning you did against Dragovich."

"I don't know what deaths you speak of." Sonja turned to him. Her gaze steadily matched with his.

"Adam and Marianne Saunders. The killings were done very well indeed," the morbid admiration rolled off his tongue smooth as silk. "I followed the trail of working girls and business partners alike. Yet, only one person could be traced back as his cloak-and-dagger. Not only that but the killings were both instantaneous, blows dealt while the victims remained unaware. The angles of the wounds also suggested the killer was both physically shorter and weaker. From the moment you rose from your chair tonight, I could see you still had all the evidence on your person. You keep quite the array of weapons sheathed beneath that gown."

The butler finished, gazing at her with the cruel mischievousness of a cat stalking a trapped mouse.

"If I had to guess," He continued mercilessly, "I would say you have, at the very least, three knives and a gun."

He closed in on her shock-still form, the long tailcoat following smoothly behind him. His footfalls made no sound against the wooden floor of the hall. This close to him Sonja could tell he was easily over half a head taller than her, with the grace and strength of a natural predator despite the layers of expensive fabric he donned. She wouldn't stand a chance against him in a fair fight and running was no longer an option now that she allowed him to come this close.

He extended a gloved hand to her, "Do come, it is nearly time for the young master's evening tea. I am already three minutes behind schedule."

"Too clever," Her lips tugged upwards, quickly reining in the whirlwind of fear and alarm that played havoc inside her.

"I am merely one hell of a butler," He brushed the compliment off humbly.

"I see," Sonja muttered, trying not to shudder at the way his crimson eyes bored into hers, staring deep into her soul. "You remind me of my mother. She was one hell of a woman" Folding her arms across her chest she sighed, adopting a blasé expression. "Very well, you've piqued my interest. If the boy wants to talk, I can spare a few moments."

"Wonderful," he clapped his hands together. "If you'd follow me, miss?"

He led her out of the bordello through the back, around the still-present crowd gathered at the front. Looking back at the Red Rose, a dark shadow clouded her face. Those ungrateful wretches had yet to step foot outside. She wondered whether it was shame or pride that kept them tied to there, to that building which reeked of sex and sin.

"You did those women no kindness you know," He interrupted her thoughts, his voice was almost gentle. "In the end, they're nothing but exposed whores."

"Not anymore."

He gave a chuckle thick as cream. "For a murderer, a thief, and a manipulator, you are a curiously innocent and naïve soul. Your idealism is as foolish as it is captivating."

She shot him a sharp glance. "What is your name anyway?"

"Sebastian Michaelis."

Before she could ask anything else they came before a waiting carriage, a safe distance away from the horde. Opening the door, Sebastian held out a hand, lifting her into the carriage where the young man waited, blue eye trained on her with a cool superiority.

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

"I have no desire to bow to a child."

"I am not much younger than you, Miss Devereux." He reminded her firmly, coughing slightly behind his hand in a dignified manner.

"Regardless, I will not become your servant." Her voice was flat and cold, as unyielding as stone.

Ciel shifted his gaze to the window of the carriage, the scenery rolling by. He almost wished it were Sebastian in here with her instead, with himself driving the carriage.

"You need a place to live, don't you?" He asked.

Amber eyes appraised him dispassionately behind thick lashes. "This and that are two separate things."

Really now, Ciel fumed to himself inwardly. Was he speaking to a woman or a stubborn child?

"I am offering you food and lodging in exchange for your services."

"I require neither from you. Nor have I asked."

"I am aware," Ciel ground out. "However, seeing as how your first employer has reached the end of his tether, there isn't much choice for you."

"There's always a choice," she spat. "I do not wish to follow your every order."

Ciel rubbed a hand over his face. "If you had any other choice, then why choose the Red Rose? Why apply and interview for governess and storekeeper positions? Time and again, mind you, knowing full well you could never get accepted with your lack of formal education."

If she was surprised by the extent of his knowledge, she hid it well. "Regardless, you're the one insistently asking after me. If it was just another servant who had the ability to fight that you were looking for, then you could easily find another."

"I don't like to have my manor too crowded," Ciel explained evenly. "Instead of having a horde of worthless people, I would prefer to have a select handful of highly qualified professionals, who have proved their worth through experience and real situations rather than textbooks or supervised training. I need people I can trust."

She scoffed. "What makes you think you can trust me? How do you know I won't do to you exactly what I've done to Dmitri?"

He could see the deal coming to a close and smirked. "That would be quite shocking," he admitted. "After all, how awful would I have to be to not notice the same tricks I used to ensure your plans were set in motion? How do you think you were never caught wiring his account balance into ten separate ones? Or dropping false hints of unusual bloody practices to set the Yard sniffing around the bordello? If you can fight against me, I relish the challenge."

Her lip curled unpleasantly, marring the delicate beauty of her pale, elfin face. He could almost hear the gears turning in her head, mulling over his words.

After a few tense minutes, she gave in. "Well played, Earl." She praised dryly.

Ciel sank back into the chair, savoring the victory he had awaited for weeks.

"Now I'm even less inclined to be your servant."

"However," she held up a hand, stopping Ciel's irate response. "I would be willing to protect your manor, if you would help me in exchange."

He studied her carefully. "Oh?"

"My mother sent me out quite a long time ago to mingle with highly influential members of society. Since London's underground obviously hasn't been working out for me, perhaps I should try blending in with nobility instead. Accept me as a guest, introduce me to whatever social idiocies I have to consequentially endure, and I will repay you with every skill I possess to protect you and yours."

She pushed her dark hair behind her ear adding in complete seriousness, "You strike me as a nasty and interesting character, Ciel. I want to crack you apart and read what's inside. If it's with someone like you, I think I could suffer the flavor of cruelty dealt by England's upper class."

"Curiosity killed the cat," he warned. "Although I must say I feel the same way regarding you. I have learned much about you, but not as much as I should've been able to. Although in this case, we can use your relatively clean slate to our advantage."

Deal finalized, the two lapsed into an almost comfortable silence.

Still, something about her brushed Ciel the wrong way. He pushed the feeling aside, burying it deep in the corners of his mind. After all, just because he couldn't see his opponents cards didn't mean he would lose the game.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry this took longer than I expected, and promised, to post. I feel awful about saying that a chapter should be out soon and it wasn't. I've literally just been writing in some of my lunch breaks during work because things have gotten so busy lately. I'll have more time once July rolls around but until then I promise to keep writing when I can.  
**

**It's also a much shorter chapter than I anticipated. I wrote more only to change my mind about the scene. It was a more playful scene between Mey-Rin and Sonja regarding her distaste of the corset, but it really didn't fit. Rather than keep you waiting by writing and editing more, I simply posted what I knew I had ready.**

**And finally, I wanted to give a huge thanks to all my readers and everyone who has reviewed and added my story to their favorites. It means more to me than I can say and I get so excited each time I know that someone is reading this. **

**Please don't hesitate to leave a comment, or to offer any suggestions or criticisms you may have. I'd love to hear anything you have to say.**

**Thank you everyone. You're the best. =)**

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

A young white-haired male opened the doors. He peered at them curiously through slanted green eyes, quickly averting his gaze when Sonja met his stare.

Only when he moved aside did she notice the scales marring his face and the snakes coiled around his thin body. He moved to take Ciel's coat from his soldiers, draping it over his arm carefully.

"Snake," Sebastian addressed the footman, "You may retire for the night."

The boy nodded mutely, walking through the expansive hall at a brisk pace. Sonja followed Sebastian and Ciel, taking in the lavish scenery around her. Ciel had mentioned that only a few people were staffed, but now she wondered if that was true.

_Just how much work is required to maintain the upkeep of this place?_

As they entered the dining area, Sebastian seated Ciel before pulling out a chair for her, watching her expectantly. She bit back a grimace at the absurdity of it all, easing herself into the chair that she could have simply pulled out for herself. After informing him of her own capability of such a feat, the two men gave her equally puzzled looks.

"It is not an uncommon practice to pull out a chair for a lady." Sebastian explained, quickly recovering from her apparent social faux pas.

She sighed, strumming her fingers along the table. "Is it truly necessary for a noblewoman to act unable to sit without assistance?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

"Though I wouldn't put it quite like that." He amended as she glowered fiercely up at him.

Excusing himself to prepare the tea, Sebastian left the room, leaving her alone with the earl who began to explain his business.

"You have heard of the Funtom Company I am president of, right?"

She shook her head. "I have not."

He frowned, looking skeptical. "It's the biggest confectionery and toy-making company in England. Recently, we've expanded into the food industry as well. We're extremely popular."

"And so very humble," she added sarcastically, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "I neither eat sweets nor play with toys. Why should I know of your company?"

"Surely you must have seen some of our products around London," he remained unconvinced. Pulling out a business card he handed it to her. "There isn't a way you could have lived there three months without even noticing the company logo."

She took it from him, squinting at the small and elaborate F. "It does look vaguely familiar," she admitted without much conviction.

He sighed, plucking the card from her hand and pocketing it back into his vest. "Regardless, these are facts you need to know if you're to be living with me. Otherwise it would look odd."

"Very well," Sonja said. Leaning in a smile stretched across her features, looking anything but pleasant. "So, have you come with a reason for why a young, unmarried woman lives within your home? Am I right to assume such details would appear 'odd'?"

He reddened slightly at the insinuation and cleared his throat. "I have come up with something, although it will take some time to fabricate the evidence necessary to back it up. You will be a daughter to a wealthy supplier of mine who is currently expanding his business in America and has requested you remain here. "

"Interesting, but why would I be living with _you_ then?"

"Providing care for a worker's daughter could provide some good publicity." He answered with all the blatant disregard for morals that she could expect from a successful English gentleman.

"You always make sure to position yourself in a spot where you can reap the benefits."

The door opened as Sebastian came in, bringing with him a silver tea tray. "Indeed he does. Well noticed, Miss Devereux."

"I would prefer to be called Sonja."

Sebastian smiled slightly as he prepared the tea. The mundane task stylized with an unparalleled elegant flourish. "Of course."

Setting the steaming porcelain cups before them he stood dutifully to the side. "For this evening's tea I have prepared a white Darjeeling with rosehips."

Ciel raised the painted cup to his lips, delicately inhaling the aroma before taking a sip. Following suit, Sonja tested the cup's contents, surprised at how much she enjoyed the light and sweet taste. She forced herself to drink it slowly, savoring the flavor.

Sebastian turned his focus to her. "I have asked the housemaid to meet you in your room later to prepare you for a bath and bed. There's a nightgown and a dress prepared for you to wear until we can acquire some additional clothes to your tastes."

Sonja nodded, "Thank you."

"You show politeness at the strangest moments," Ciel commented idly.

"Should I not show any at all?" She countered. "It was a kindness that I believed deserved one in return."

"And pulling out your chair didn't?" his brow rose.

"It was unnecessary. I merely said it was so."

Sebastian chuckled, whether at his master's confusion or at her reasoning Sonja didn't know.

_**x.x.x.x.x.x**_

Sonja tossed and turned in the bed, tugging at the lacy collar of the nightgown Mey-Rin insisted upon her wearing. It itched and scratched at her throat, the skin accustomed to being left bare. The gown was long and billowy, ensnaring her legs when she tried to move them. The lace cuffs and long ribbons seemed equally desperate to transform her into an insomniac. She considered ripping the thing off, but being scolded in only her drawers first thing in the morning didn't seem worth it. Not if she'd just have to suffer through it tomorrow night anyway.

She slept fitfully, waking to the sound of a crash outside her room. Sitting up, the door burst open and Mey-Rin rushed in, glasses askew and tea spilled all over the tray. Despite her disheveled appearance, she gave Sonja a wide smile.

"Good morning, my lady." She greeted enthusiastically. "Did you sleep well?"

"If I am forced to wear this infernal garment in the afterlife it will be too soon," Sonja replied, voice still thick from what little sleep she managed to get.

"It takes some getting used to." The maid agreed lightheartedly. "I cannot believe you've never slept with one before."

"Yes, well," Sonja kicked off the sheets, clamoring out of bed. "I would like to change to something more comfortable now."

"Ah! Yes, yes," the cherry-haired girl hurried over to wardrobe, pulling out garments as Sonja stepped out of hers. She looked away with a red face as Sonja changed her undergarments, looking uncomfortable.

"Why the red face?" Sonja asked hesitantly. "Should I not be changing in front of you?"

"O-oh no," Mey-Rin assured, though she continued to study the wall. "It's just that I'm not used to such duties, you see. I've been the only female in this household for quite a long time and-"

"I see," Sonja interjected, cutting her off from her breathless rant. "So long as my behavior is not unacceptable…if you could hand over the dress now?" She held out her hand.

"But Miss Sonja, your corset-"

"Oh, I'd rather not." She forced a smile on her face.

Mey-Rin shifted from foot to foot, clearly conflicted by the idea of simply not wearing one. Her hands nervously fumbled along the edge of her apron. "I noticed you didn't have one yesterday but it is a part of the ensemble."

"Alright," Sonja began slowly. "I suppose it won't kill me."

**x.x.x**

**Edited: I misspelled a name and it was really bugging me. Sorry about that.**


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